Denial
by Stefan-sama
Summary: Oneshot. Ema Skye could never refuse a free meal... Though that was rather debatable when a certain prosecutor is involved. A blond, childish, rock star prosecutor. EmaxKlavier


**This is a short one that I put out on a lark. Regardless, I'm rather fond of it. Looking back on the actual game, I didn't see much evidence of a KlavierxEma pairing, but I still like it. Anyway, Klavier may seem both childish and sophisticated in some parts, which don't rather suit him (well, maybe just the latter), so I apologize if Klavier seems OOC. But, I think I wrote Ema rather well. Judge for yourself. Enjoy!**

**Denial**

Most people enjoy their jobs. Apollo is always raving about his newest case. Trucy is constantly babbling about her latest magic trick. Mr. Wright- well, for a pianist who sounds worse than Lana in the shower, he seems to be pretty happy with it.

Being a detective is fine. I also get to help the forensic team occasionally. As well as glowering at their incompetence. And the freedom to eat Snackoos anytime, anywhere is also a nice perk. It's that glimmerous fop I can't stand.

Prosecutor Klavier Gavin: my worst nightmare times two. Damon Gant was one point five. His music was loud, his clothes were flashy, and his _personality_- boyish, idiotic, loud, and above all, infuriating. He has this way of just being able to rub you the wrong way and charm you at the same time. Mostly the former.

So the second I heard the word "Fräulein", I groaned inwardly and swiveled around in my chair to come face to face with a tanned, grinning face. "Well, Fräulein Skye. Working hard or hardly working, eh?" he said, his voice oozing with sickening sweetness.

I sighed and threw a Snackoo at him (which was something I did rather rarely), which he caught in his teeth, swallowing it down and smiling. "Strawberry Snackoos? Last I checked, there was only chocolate and caramel." He stepped behind me, leaning on the desk and using his foot to turn my chair around. "But that's not why I came here. I don't suppose you'd be interested in ditching the office for the evening?"

I sighed and attempted to shove him out of the way. "Shove off, Gavin. I've got a mountain of paperwork to attend to, and I don't think that going back to the crime scene will make it any smaller."

He leaned in again. His face was an inch from mine. I could smell his breath (which reeked of hastily applied mint). And his eyes, his blue eyes, his beautiful blue eyes…

I blushed and shook my head, trying to clear my head. "I wasn't referring to that, Ema," he said softly, his voice echoing like bells. "Care to join me for a night out? I'll be paying, of course. I'm sure that a five-star restaurant is _much_ more appealing than that _humongous pile_ of papers…" he smiled, sliding his index finger lightly under my chin.

I could see through his tactic of persuasion easily.

I was completely taken by it, whether I liked it or not.

"Fine," I muttered dejectedly, cursing myself silently for being such an idiot, knowing exactly how much I would regret it. "So long as you remain incognito, the last thing I need is a pack of rabid fangirls chasing after us." He laughed merrily, extending his hand and pulling me up.

Fifteen minutes later saw us walking briskly through the humid streets of Los Angeles. Well, more like running. Chased by a pack of rabid fangirls. "I swear, Gavin, if we get through this alive, I'm going to murder you," I hissed at him, gritting my teeth.

"Now, where's the fun in that, Fräulein? You'd get fired even if you hid the evidence. Besides, it's much more like you to burn me at the stake than to outright kill me, I'd suffer a lot more that way," he laughed, waving at the mob running desperately after us. "Remember, our finale album is being released next week! I've personally signed each disc! We love you!"

He looked at me, grinning. "What can I say? You get popular enough, it doesn't matter if you've broken up or not. And can you blame them for swooning at me?" Dodging a slap from me, he opened the restaurant door and hurried me inside, closing the door and leaving hundreds of teenagers crying in distraught, banging on the restaurant windows.

Ignoring the gaping/squealing customers, we slid into the nearest booth, relieved from the paparazzi. Or at least I was. The waiter came over in a few short minutes, fitting the stereotypical butler image perfectly, with a short, curled moustache and neatly combed back hair. "Welcome to Italia, both of you. Care to sample our house wine?" Klavier winked at me, sliding his glass over, where it was filled with a light red liquid. "Are either of you ready to order? I recommend the lasagna, myself. Delightfully filling."

Klavier stared at the menu for a couple of moments. "Hm… We'll have the fetucinni alfredo… This one, right here," he said, showing the waiter the menu.

"Ah, yes…" replied the man, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "It's been far too long since anyone's ordered that. Will there be any beverages for either of you?" Klavier made a short speech about his love for hot chocolate, while I indicated the iced tea. "Very well, sir, madame," he bowed, making his way to the kitchens.

I glared at him. "I wanted one of the soups, Gavin. Who said you could order for me?"

He grinned, waving his hand nonchalantly. "At least I told him that you didn't like mushrooms on yours. And you're getting free food. You really shouldn't complain, Fräulein. That's rather rude."

I snorted. "Like you're one to lecture about manners."

"Now who was the one that called me a 'glimmerous fop'? Not to mention throwing a Snackoo right at my face."

"You totally deserved that, teasing me."

"I merely enjoy merrymaking, Fräulein Skye. Besides, you're rather cute when you're angry. And you know you can't resist me."

"Screw you."

"In your dreams, Ema."

I blushed and kicked him under the table. He grinned, obviously not showing any signs of pain. "Sir Wright was correct. I do believe shouting "Take That!" would've resulted in much more force. Try it one of these days, you already hit me enough."

I ground my teeth in frustration. "I really, _really_ loathe you, Gavin…"

He smiled, putting his hand to his ear mockingly. "Now, what was that? Surely my ears deceive me, but I could swear that I just heard something along the lines of 'I really, _really_ love you, Gavin…"

My cheeks heated up to the point where it felt as if they were on fire. I stood up and tried to slap him, but he caught it and pulled me close to him, our foreheads even touching. "Deny it all you like, Fräulein, but you know it's true," he said, his eyes glinting, his mouth curving upward.

Whatever Klavier or I was about to say next was interrupted by the waiter. "We apologize for the wait, your meal has arrived," he said in a deep voice, and, with a great flourish, he removed the lid from the platter and set it down between us, accompanied with two glasses, filled to the brim. "Enjoy," he said, bowing.

I looked at the platter. On it sat a plate. Not two separate plates. One, huge, pasta-filled plate.

With a single red rose sitting neatly next to it.

I raised my gaze slowly. Klavier's head was resting between his folded hands, which in turn were resting on his propped up elbows. "Gavin…" I said slowly, taking care to enunciate each syllable. "What is this…?"

"I think that's rather obvious, Fräulein," he smiled. "As you've noticed, there is one large plate and two forks, not to mention a flower normally associated with love. Naturally, that implies that we eat from the same dish," he said, twirling around his fork and gathering pasta, raising it up, parallel to the table.

"Open wide, Fräulein."

I blushed again, but tried to hide it, looking down and spinning my own fork. "I think I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, thanks."

We ate in silence for a few more moments. Klavier set his fork down, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat. "Now… I believe that we had an unfinished conversation…?"

I tried to ignore him, shoving a forkful of pasta into my mouth and chewing. It should've tasted good, but it was the same as chewing leather: tasteless.

"Now, you are in complete and utter denial. That's perfectly fine. However, I, unlike you, am _not_ unable to face the truth. In fact, I revel in it. Therefore, I can say with complete confidence and honesty, that I am head over heels in love with you."

I dropped my fork. It clattered to the table, initiating silence. "I take it from your silence that you feel the same way, yet are simply not ready to admit it," Klavier said, smiling. "That can easily be fixed." He reached over the table, gripping my chin softly and tilting it to the side ever so slightly, pulling me close.

And he kissed me.

It was a bit surprising, but I returned it. The world slowed to a stop, everything else was gone, there was only Klavier, Klavier and I. His lips were soft, rapturous, pulling me in so far that I could not and would not want to leave. Nothing mattered except him, SL-9 was but a faraway dream, nothing existed or mattered. Nothing comes close to describing it.

At last, after an eternity and a half, we let go slowly, a soft pop sounding, his taste still lingering, his eyes glinting. He grinned. "So, your thoughts?"

I looked down, blushing once more, balling my fists and pushing them against my thighs. "I guess…" I said slowly. "…That… I love you, too."

He smiled again, but this was a genuine smile, not some mocking or teasing or teasing grin. "Well, now, that sure took a while," he said softly, kissing me on the cheek. He extended his hand again. "Well, then, shall we? I hear the sunset on Gourd Lake gets rather beautiful during the autumn. Of course, not as beautiful as you."

I punched his arm. "Quit throwing out cheesy lines, Klavier. You already know you're hot, there's no need to convince me the same. Please." He laughed, taking my hand and helping me up.

Taking that glimmerous fop's hand may have been the biggest mistake of my life.

People sure do some crazy things for love.


End file.
